Wrong Boy
by anybodynobodysomebody
Summary: Michael Potter is the savior of the wizarding world, The-Boy-Who-Lived, everyone knows that. But one thing that no-one knows is that that's not true. Harry Potter, his twin, is. Wrong-BWL!fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The attack of the plot bunnies has left me victim to 6 stories begging me to be written, this is one of the main ones so I hope you like it...**

* * *

><p>The black cloaked figure walked down the pathway to the small cottage, it's steps slow and predatory, silent and cautious. It stilled as it encountered the front door until the only part of it that was moving was a slim hand that was making complicated patterns in the air with a wand. A small smile graced its face as it got the wanted result and it stood up straighter abandoning all caution as it blasted the door open carelessly and walked inside, its previously quite gait replaced by a powerful stride that was entirely silent.<p>

The inside of the house was quite nicely furnished with a small fire in the caged grate. The floor was covered in toys and story books and the sofa had a large blanket on it, still warm from its previous occupants.

A black haired man stood at the opposite doorway his wand out menacingly but with a look of fear on his face "Get away from here," he said his voice surprisingly steady as the figure walked closer the toys moving out of the way of their own will. The terror on the mans face grew making his voice inadvertently louder "Go. Go away, please. Shoo." The figure laughed, a high cold cackle that only one person would later remember. "Why, James?" the figure said, earning nervous stutters from the man as he got even closer. This time it didn't laugh James was getting a little boring but he would be good fun later. It flicked its wand and a red beam of light collided with James squarely in the chest knocking him over and leaving him lying motionless on the ground.

The figure carried on by and seemed to flow up the stairs a white hand trailing carelessly along the handrail behind it. Once it reached the summit it carried straight onward to the first door on the right following the whimpers that had sprung up after James had fallen. It blasted this door open as well and seemed slightly disappointed as he saw that the woman, Lily, was knocked unconscious on the floor by the flying door her hair spread about her pretty face like the halo of a guardian angel, which was what she was.

It had been planning to shock her with its image knowing it would find the knowing screams amusing but there would be none of them now. But it brought down its hood anyway seeing no reason to leave himself in it's stuffy confines, it tumbled down around his shoulders revealing a head so white it glowed. It was a man, that much was obvious, but he was not an ordinary man.

His bald white scalp was interrupted by blue veins, like cracked ice showing the water beneath. His lips, thin and drawn, were used to smiling with out humor stood out below the slitted snake nose in the center of his face. His cheekbones were sharp and clearly defined along with his jaw, but the most prominent thing were his eyes.

They were large and red, like bloody rubies, cradling thin reptilian pupils that would kill you even much easier than leave you alive. They could cause you a million years of pain or desert you with nothing but a nightmarishly bad memory. These killer eyes were now gazing at the small, white crib in which two baby boys were sitting.

One of them had short dark red hair and baby blue unfocused eyes that had still not yet matured to their proper color even though he was almost a year old, while the other had longer messier black hair that flopped over his forehead, inherited from James,the man who had been downstairs, and pale green eyes that were slightly more defined than his twins. They shared the usual family resemblance but the black haired one was slightly slimmer in body structure whilst the blue eyed one was more stocky.

The dark lord, for what else could he be, frowned, worried. He had hoped that he would know who his rival would be when the time came but now he regretted that childish dream. He had been overconfident, something he would not do again, and now he was faced with a knew he could just kill both but he had had such good, _fun_, plans for the other to completely ruin the spirit of those who were still fighting him.

He looked closely once again, aware that the stunner he had shot earlier would not last long, the two boys had now realized that the stranger lurking over them was not friendly and were reacting differently. It was now obvious who was who. The dark lord reached out to push the crying babe aside but was overtaken by the other boy, his rival, who gently pushed his brother aside with a fierce caring, handing him a little stuffed lion in the colors of Gryffindor house immediately quietening him.

He returned his gaze to the Dark Lord glaring fiercely at the spot where the Lord had touched is brother until Lord Voldemort felt a sharp pain in his finger and saw a small blister appear. He chuckled, actual laughter this time, and wondered how this small blister would kill him exactly, sure, it stung a hell of a lot for it's size but was he going to drop dead from pain? No. And if he did he had made precautions.

He would not die permanently. He raised his arm letting a smallish snake slither out. It was still quite young but was very intelligent and had killed its entire litter making it the vicious killer it was supposed to be and instead of killing it, like he should have when it wandered in during a meeting, he kept it and now it would become one of his most valuable possessions. The boy glared even harder as it tumbled down near his brother and this time a cut appeared on the Lords flat nose. He frowned healing himself with a simple tap, there were noises downstairs James was waking and the first thing he would do is called Dumbldore he took someone he was not willing to face right now.

The Lord took two swift steps backwards and raised his wand preparing for one of the biggest moments of his soon-to-be-eternal life. His wand slashed downwards at the baby accompanied by the quietly spoken words of his most used spell "_Avada Kedavera_"

The jet of green light hit the baby on the forehead knocking him over but he didn't seem to be dead! The Dark Lord lent over the boy to check if he was alive when a wave of energy pulsated outwards breaking everything in its way. As soon as it touched him Lord Voldemort disintegrated into white ash.

Not dead, never dead, but not quite alive either. As the wave hit the snake got thrown away but the tip of its tail dragged along the other child neck leaving a perfectly straight gash there. The baby instantly started wailing once again, climbing on top of his brother to get the attention of his still parents. At the sound there was a pounding on the stairs as James Potter raced up to see with his own eyes that his sons were still alive and had defeated the Dark Lord.

Just as he came in the boy slipped falling on his brother and making it look as if he had protected him. James picked up his conscious son and hugged him deeply sobbing in terror. He swiftly healed the cut on his sons throat and said to him gently, with great awe "You're a very very special person aren't you? Everyone else died when they met You-Know-Who but you, you didn't, you _can't_. Because you lived, didn't you? You're The-Boy-Who-Lived."

The red head gurgled happily at the name, the scar on his throat standing out against his still flawless skin, not knowing that the scar and him combined would ruin his brothers life as _his_ brother took the credit for an act anyone who tried, could see he could never do, but why would they check, the evidence was right in front of them. The-Boy-Who-Lived was Micheal Bryce Potter. Who else could it be?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So what do you think? I tried to make it confusing all through then at the end tell you that Harry is still the Boy-Who-Lived just everyone thinks that it is Michael if that wasn't clear enough. Please and for the more lazy people of you out there use the LRC;**

**Lazy Review Code**

**y = yes**

**n = no**

**o = ok**

**f = fabulous / fantasic**

**a = awful**

**PS: Longer reviews, all criticism and a willing beta will be rewarded with cookies and _really_ appreciated, thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the favs, follows and reviews that have led me to discover the LRC is _useless, _ but all the others were fantastic, thanks ****gals ****and ****guys****. **

* * *

><p><em>*LATER THAT NIGHT*<em>

The office was large and silent, the only sounds coming from a collection of spindle-legged instruments clicking away. A blue robed wizard sat behind a enormous desk smoking a pipe that released a bright purple smoke that drifted lazily around the room. A burst of flame interrupted the thoughtful silence revealing a beautiful golden phoenix. Seeing this the man stood up and walked over to the fireplace with a swiftness that his long beard and wrinkles denied. Seconds after he had reached it a woman fell out of the fire which had suddenly grown and turned a fresh minty green.

The mans eyes sparkled in laughter as he said "Oh Lily, still find it so hard to exit a floo" Lily blushed red drawing the attention even better to her eyes which were lively light green. Just then the fire grew once more and a tall black haired man walked out confidently clutching a small redheaded child. He greeted Dumbledore jovially "Hello Professor, how are you?"

"Same as always James, but I see you are here for something more important than my well being."

James grinned as Lily began tickling the child in his arms, it gurgled happily and Lily explained everything swiftly. Near the end of the story a crack sounded as a house elf apperated into the room, tottering under the weight of the young boy in his arms.

The black-haired child rolled out of the house elf's arms and tottered unsteadily towards his dad and brother hugging his fathers leg as tightly as possible once he reached it and saying "up" impatiently, smiling and trying to climb it when nothing happened. What the 15 month old didn't expect was for his father to excuse himself from the conversation for a second and to kick his leg out suddenly causing him to fly off James' leg and get thrown across the room, bursting into wails as he hit the ground hard.

Lily was about to go and comfort her younger son when Michael also started to cry at the jerk he had gotten.

She instantly turned around making a small flicking motion at the house elf, which _chose_ to interpret it as a command to go look after the fallen child. The two parents cooed over Michael not noticing that Harrys' wails stopped seconds after they had turned their backs to him, unnatural behavior for a baby. Once Michael was smiling once more James continued "-And the wall was completely destroyed, most of the room had caved in but there was not a speck of dust on the cot, and little Michael here was standing against the front of the cot shielding his ungrateful brother who had fallen unconscious in terror." he glanced at Harry hate burning in his eyes at the cowardice of his own son, "Then I saw that he had a cut along his neck and I healed it, but the scar wouldn't go away, look its still visible"

Dumbledore peered at the scar through his spectacles. He could sense the dark magic that emanated from that single point. How was he to know that the magic there was only strong because The Dark Lord was not planning on giving up on that snake, in fact he was rather fond of it, to the point he'd put a piece of his own soul in it and anything as important as that deserved _major_ protection.

But the most esteemed light wizard didn't know that, or that a tiny, _tiny_ bit of that protection now resided in his saviors body. All the great wizard saw was the dark magic radiating from that spot.

Michael took the old mans face in his hands and began pulling at the wrinkles. Dumbledore smiled serenely taking delight in the young child's innocence, "This scar is of great power James" Dumbledore said before he reluctantly pulled himself away to look at the other child, Harry, he thought the name was.

Harry was sitting on the cold floor seemingly listening to their conversation with a small frown adorning his face. As Dumbledore came closer Harry looked up at him with intense green eyes that were much too intelligent for their age. Dumbledore couldn't help but flinch violently in shock and a tiny bit of fear as they assessed him.

The boys eyes widened in shock thinking he was doing something bad and in a split second all that intelligence and power was hidden far beyond he reach of anyone but himself.

Dumbledore shook his head wondering what had gotten into him the boy was perfectly ordinary.

He quickly assessed him for traces of dark magic but he couldn't feel anything vaguely evil, in fact he could feel nothing at all. No power whatsoever resided in the child, and as much as Albus hated to say it, _Ariana_, the boy was a squib. He wondered vaguely whether he should tell Lily and James but his mind was already made up, James and Lily needed time to get over the fact that they were bringing up the most important child in wizarding history. This little piece of information could wait another 5 years_ (9 years;10 years; Never; Who cared really)_ and only then would they begin to suspect, and in years to come those few soon-to-be forgotten words allowed one young wizard to bloom, not knowing he was _meant_ to be a squib.

Dumbledore walked slowly to a cabinet that was hidden behind a _thing__, _it didn't really look like anything, and extracted three crystal goblets that he began to fill with a strong amber liquid. He poured in a liberal amount, the steady glugging of the liquid magnifying the tension in Lily and James, and handed them a goblet each.

He gently raised his hand and in a somber voice said, "To Michael Potter, The Chosen One" knowing that all over the country people were doing the exact same thing.

* * *

><p><em>*TWO YEARS LATER* 3 years old<em>

Micheal Potter sat on the rug in front of the fire, his parents crowded around him as he pointlessly acted out a scene with the same stuffed lion that he had held on that fateful night two years ago. James and Lily had tried to get rid of it several times each time being faced with a considerable amount of broken china and an enormous tantrum.

They were very proud of the broken china and always kept at least one piece as proof that their little Mike could do accidental magic and was very powerful to destroy so much at the young age of three, just as he should be, only the best was expected from the boy-who-lived.

The family had changed since the name had been given, each person having gone through things that had changed them drastically.

Lily was no longer the know-it-all show-off mud-blood that most hated or at least disliked, she was now the dedicated mother of the Boy-Who-Lived, the most important light wizard around (except _possibly_ Dumbledore), and spoilt her son silly at every opportunity.

James was the same however the money had gotten his head a little more than Lily and he was no longer the brave Gryffindor that was expected, but like Lily he also spoilt his son beyond what seemed possible.

Michael Potter, the boy in question had got used to the constant pampering he was a beach-ball of a boy dressed in bonnets of many colors which he had finally got the sense to protest against. The moment the words had come out of his plump, overfed lips they were as good as burnt, the fact he had said words had also been a great celebration with everyone he met begging him to repeat them leading to long choruses of "I want, give, now," and a couple of broke shops.

Despite their imperfections the family managed to portray themselves as perfect light family, unknowingly helped by Dumbledore. The only problem with this perfect family, was the second son often, if not always, forgotten, left behind, avoided.

Harry Potter. He was always just _there_ in a corner, when he was brought along, and otherwise seemed to stay in the library, or somewhere in the house as no-one had ever bothered to find out where he was.

There were many house elves but they were forbidden to follow any orders form their young master after Michael hadn't got his warm fresh milk with two big spoons of honey and 1/2 a Honey-dukes finest chocolate bar and 3/4 a pinch of cinnamon and 1 and a 1/2 teaspoons of granddads finest single malt whiskey fast enough because Harry had wanted an apple.

He had thinned drastically after this order because he had to find his own food, and he was never invited to the diner table, and where he had previously been the same size as his older famous twin he was now much, _much_ smaller, the lack of food really getting to him.

Harry never spoke, never wanted attention and never displayed accidental magic, something that would have greatly concerned his parents, had they bothered to could already read and write better than other children thrice his age and his lack of accidental magic was because it was already controlled.

If only someone had looked then, when he was perfect, not later when he wasn't a boy any longer, a time that would come much too fast.

If only...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you liked it. I tried to use a little less description than last time and please point out any mistakes to me again. Thank you for all your support, I'm doing this because of all the people out there who like this fic and my writing instead of when people just agree with me when I saythat my writing is rubbish and then start talking about how good theirs is. Thanks again.**

**P.S. **I'm sorry but the next chapter might take a while as I'm going to be on holiday _dans le France _(in France)****


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yep it took a while but the next chapter is finally ready, after long hours of toil (and enjoyment) on my part. So, read on, readers.**

* * *

><p><em>Michael had grown up into a gorgeous, powerful man that every woman dreamt of marrying.<em>_He was the top auror at the young age of 19 and had his achievements stacked around him in an impenetrable fortress.__Reporters begged for a single word and the paparazzi swarmed him, wherever he went. Voldemort was gone, defeated by him two years prior and it was widely known that he was more powerful than Dumbledore.__He was wanted worldwide for his skills and loved by everyone everywhere. And through all of this he still managed to find time for his mother who was famous and loved because of him, regardless of her heritage. She and James were the richest people alive and could do whatever they wished.__Her sister would rot in the dungeons of her and James' enormous castle and her screams (which were actually quite annoying at the moment, maybe she should cast a silencing charm?) would brighten her on days where she only received 200 pieces of fan mail.__And then she would live her endless days in happiness when Nicholas Flamel finally died (for Merlin's sake how long can it take to die, maybe she should help him along his way a little?) and left her the sorcerer's stone. And the yells would _finally_ stop and_ -

- for Merlin's sake didn't they know that she needed her beauty sleep?

Lily buried her head deeper under her pillow trying to return to that paradise when a thought came to her. What if that was her little Mike screaming unhappily? How would he give her all those things if he wasn't happy and from that moment she swore to herself that Mike would get whatever he wanted the moment he wanted it, it wasn't like she didn't have enough money, and James' would understand too judging by the sleepy mumbles he was now giving.

Another yell came and she dashed madly towards her baby, who she decided would have to move closer to her room as she leant at the doorway of Mike's room, panting heavily. Inside his crib Mike appeared perfectly happy, standing dominatingly over a corner of the large crib. Lily relaxed as she observed this and continued to quietly watch over him, allowing the screams of the other child in the crib to continue for the time being.

Wait - other child? Waves of guilt crashed over her as she remembered Harry and how she had deserted him last night, she gently picked up her oldest who she now realised was teaching one of the cruel lessons of the world to his younger brother, that those with power were better than those without and could do whatever they wanted to the weak.

She reprimanded Mike gently, ruining the effect by telling him how adorable he was and pinching his cheek immediately afterwards.

At that moment she seemed to realise what she had done, and picked up her other son as well with wide eyes and gently whispered a promise to them, one that lacked drive and purpose even as it was said. 'I will always treat you equally, no matter what.'

True to her feelings, the promise was strained that very day; broken a week later; and completely annihilated on the twins third birthday.

* * *

><p>The two young boys blearily opened their eyes each letting out a squeal of delight when they remembered what day it was both eagerly climbing out of their resting places.<p>

Already the differences between them were obvious.

One was tall for his age and slightly plump, his baby fat unwilling to leave, messy auburn hair covering dim-witted eyes and nose pointed firmly in the air in an attempt to show of the scar that had got him the fine clothes that he wore. The other was of average height and slightly thinner than was expected for his age, bright green eyes peered inquisitively from his bird-nest hair and his clothes hung off him ever so slightly with the sleeves having to be rolled up several times to allow him to hold on to anything. But both were alike in the excitement currently making sprint to their parent's room and bounce on the bed in impatience. James and Lily Potter mock groaned, pretending to be reluctant while sharing hidden grins. 'What's up Mikey?' James yawned 'Why are you up so early, it's Monday.'

'Daddy, it's birthday'

'No. that can't be right Mikey, I remember your birthday was last year' James said jokingly with a thoughtful look on his face.

'Daddy.' Mike crossed his arms and sniffed, eyes beginning to water, and both parents instantly sat up and comforted their child, tiredness forgotten while Harry looked on in wonder, wondering how someone could miss him bouncing on their bed while having a conversation. Yet his parents had managed to omit him completely from their minds, while he was trying to gain their attention. He followed them down two flights of stairs and into the drawing room where several enormous stacks of presents took up most of the space. Harry was about to run over to the nearest when his parents placed his brother in front of an pile about as tall as him and told him that they were from them, and that they were sorry it was so small but they had to keep some for later.

Harry almost sprinted over and tugged on his dad's trouser leg trying to get his attention off Michael for a second. James looked down with a distracted air and impatiently said 'What?'

'Where are my presents, Da-'

'These presents are all for Mikey, you'll get yours on your birthday' before turning away, leaving Harry gaping. How had they forgotten him like that, it was his birthday too.

They knew that.

Didn't they?

* * *

><p><em>It was the Chosen One's 3rd birthday and the entire household was a mess trying to prepare for the onslaught of guests that would be arriving in an hour. <em>

_Lily was urgently marking of things on a scroll of parchment while Mike was entertained by James. She laughed lightly as James transfigured Mike's tie into a pink bunny that hopped around backwards before looking down with a slight frown at the tugging at her dress. Harry was standing there looking up at her and in the innocent way only children could, inquired why his name wasn't on the huge hat shaped cake standing proudly in the middle of the heaped table. _

_Lily looked at it in shock before discovering that it was true. How had she done such a thing? 'Oh, darling,' she slowly knelt down in front of Harry urgently trying to think of something to say 'We didn't want you to feel left out, let me get yours now and your presents and you won't even have to stay for the party.' She quickly walked into a corner before snapping her fingers for a house elf and muttering some instructions urgently. 'Get a cupcake… not the best one, that's for Mike… and candles… yes perfect and a couple of gifts… Yes good, Quickly.' She called over James and quickly explained to him finishing just as two hose elves popped in one carrying a larger than usual cupcake with four candles and the other a small stack of presents. _

_Lily quickly took the lead the others quickly joining in 'Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear-' _

_James frantically looked around, trying to figure out what to say, then just deciding to copy Lily, '-arry, Happy birthday to you.' Lily then handed Harry the stack of decidedly book shaped presents (things that Mike hated) and ushered him off to his room to open them just as the doorbell rang. _

_Harry ran up to his room as fast as he could with the heavy books in his hands eagerly dumped them on his bed and began to open then, overjoyed that his parents hadn't forgotten him, they had even got him presents! However his disappointment mounted when he saw that the first, and second, and third presents were books that were much too difficult for a three year old, however talented. The fourth present was, at first glance another book but actually had a secret expanded compartment inside in which you could keep things, slightly cheered up he continued onto the last and biggest gift, which to his disappointment was yet _another_ book. _

_But something about it was different. The cover was bound in some sort of leathery material, and it was abnormally thick for any kind of book and inlaid in gold were the words, _Magickes Moste Rare_. For some reason he opened the book with the utmost care, it gave that kind of atmosphere ancient knowledge. But to his dismay it was written in minuscule but detailed calligraphy which there wasn't a chance he would be able to decipher. _

_But someone had given him this book and he would do them proud. He would learn everything it told him until he could do it better than anyone else. He swore._

* * *

><p>He practiced reading like there was no tomorrow, trying to find books with the same type of flowery wording, and that immaculate calligraphy, it didn't matter if he couldn't understand what the books were saying, all that mattered was that he could read them, but as he read his knowledge grew, until one day he opened Magickes Moste Rare and he could understand.<p>

He couldn't understand everything; there was time left for that, but he could understand most things, and for now, for the 7 year old, that was enough.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I have good news and bad news. And in my oh-so-optimistic style we start with the good news. I have everything planned out until fifth year, so that should be good, But the bad news are, this will not speed up updates. Unfortunately I am still and probably always will be a reader before a writer so if anyone could recommend any type of good (as in _well written_)Slytherin!Harry fic I will be _beyond_ grateful. Thanks for all of the favourites and follows, I feel so special, and it is encouraging to know people like my writing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This chapter has a lot of speech in it(which I'm working on), so it might be a little unrealistic, but it does explain a couple of thing that will be important, even if its not very rich in plot.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><em>Age 8<em>

The day after Michael's 8th birthday was a special one, and not just because he had received more gifts than ever. Albus Dumbledore had come to take the Boy Who Lived wand shopping.

The Potter family were impatiently crowding around the large fire place in the parlour of their new mansion. It had been custom built for them and had had all Potter artefacts transferred to it, to James' disappointment he hadn't been able to sneak many secret passages into the blueprints, only 15 had made their way into the aptly named Boy-Who-Lived House.

At exactly 11 there was a bright flash of flame right beside Mike and Dumbledore appeared along with the gentle trilling of Fawkes, who was about to show 'favouritism' to the Chosen one, as instructed by her master when she felt something not quite right, but feeling the gentle tensing of the shoulder it was perched on he quickly fluttered over and butted his head affectionately against Michaels face. Michael looked down at him in a form of delighted horror, unsure whether he should be proud of the event or disgusted that the phoenix was using _him_ as a _perch_. He didn't have to decide, for within seconds of landing, the bird seemed to let out a disappointed titter before flying off somewhere into the house.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed with fury, before he resumed his grandfatherly persona, 'Morning Michael, James, Lily. Ready to go?' James and Michael both immediately started shouting in agreement and bouncing over the sofas, Lily gave them a fond smile before replying, 'Just a minute, we need to wait for Harry.'

The anger made itself at home on the face of Dumbledore one more as Harry came down one of the many corridors with Fawkes perched on his messy hair, crooning. Lily smiled softly and patted his arm as he came to stand next to her. 'Sorry Professor, shall we go?' The emerald eyes were partially hidden behind his thick framed glasses as they looked up to him innocently.

'Call me Albus, your making me feel old. Come on Mike, my boy, let me show you how to travel by phoenix'

James ruffled his sons ginger hair and gave him a light tap, as the boy stared distrustfully at the bird. 'Race ya!' He yelled and ran towards the fireplace. That prompted a rushed response, 'Quick, Quick Uncle, or I won't get chocolate cake!' Dumbledore chuckled at the name given to him and carefully whispered something in Michael's ear, Michael frowned but grabbed Fawkes and loudly said, 'Diagon alley,' just as his dad did the same whilst dropping a handful of floo powder. Lily followed in seconds, and the house was empty once more.

Harry sighed. Things had Improved, and for a while, after Christmas, he was treated almost equal to Michael by his family, but it seemed that the shock of neglect had worn of, and they were beginning to fall back into their old routine, a lot more attentive compared to before, they hadn't once forgotten to call him for dinner, _yet_, but their attention was starting to fade once more. If he was honest with himself he was surprised it had lasted an entire 7 months.

With a deep exhale Harry carefully took a handful of floo powder and followed his family.

When he entered Olivanders, Albus was in the middle of a long explanation on what was about to happen, only Olivander looked up and greeted him quietly, he nodded in return and went to stand behind his mother.

'-cores, so we have decided it would be best to get you a custom wand, to magnify your already enormous amounts of power my boy.'

'Thank you, Albus' the wand maker said tersely, before turning his back on the headmaster. 'So Mr Potter, I would like you to stand here, in the middle of this ring, and pick the core you feel most drawn to, we will need at least two cores for your wand and one wood,' As he spoke Michael rushed to the circle of tables around him, 'Whoa dad, look how cool this is!' He held up a sharp shard of a metal like substance, before leaning in to examine what looked like a flower trapped in a gem.

'No, no, no! Mr Potter, you must let your magic guide you.' As he was completely ignored, the wand maker sighed and started muttering, before waving his hand in a sharp circular motion.

'Fine. Mr Potter, if you could simply place a finger on each material.' As he continued to be ignored, Olivander sighed and vanished the tables, gathering the things in a soft velvet bag, and handing them to the over-eager boy one by one.

After the 20th Michael was getting bored, throwing the gemstone he had seen earlier and shattering it.

'Mr Potter, if you do not treat my products with respect, I will not make you a wand!'

The threat seemed enough to calm Michael, and he was subdued as he held the rest of the items. Only two later there was a blinding flash as he picked up a piece of dark grey leather, 'Interesting, Mr Potter, that is flobberworm skin, don't be so prejudiced, if prepared properly, flobberworm skin can rival a dragons in durability, and it's much more comfortable,' Michael still looked annoyed, but silently handled each of the other objects, none producing a similar reaction.

'It seems Mr Potter, that you will be needing some of my more specialised cores,' At that moment Dumbledore and Michael looked equally smug, while James and Lily applauded and congratulated their special boy. A small partitioned casket was drawn out, with tens of tiny drawers on its surface and without being prompted, Michael reached over to one of the drawers and pulled.

A long slim black rod shot out. It incurred the same reaction as the floberworm skin. Olivander seemed shocked at the choice.

'I had hoped to put that in a very powerful wand, though I was starting to doubt that it would be chosen' Dumbledore looked put off at the thought that Michaels wand wouldn't be great, while Michael clutched wildly at his wand core, and showing off to his parents.

Harry stood completely behind the paragon of a happy family, tears threatening to leak out of his eyes. He blinked them back harshly, turning his head away so that he didn't have to look at them any longer.

'As I was saying, this is the broken heartstring of a very proud Hebridian Black, see here, the fractures,' This prompted another round of cooing which seemed to annoy the old wand maker even more, reclaiming the core that had been snatched out of his hand he continued, 'The curious thing about this core in particular is that the dragon from which the heartstring was taken was killed for no reason. Yes, it is unknown why, just that it was the first of a series of killings, which severely cut down the dragon population of Romania. Anyway, now for the wood.'

Another velvet bag was produced from somewhere but this time Olivander carefully laid the blocks of various woods out in a long line along his desk, 'Mr Potter, I would like you to hold your hand over each of the woods, to see if you feel a pull towards any of them, no don't touch,' The exhaustion on the old man's face was visible as Michael only went towards the most interesting of woods, ignoring the old wand maker as he fumbled and dropped many of them, continuing onwards nevertheless. Due to the multitudes of woods on the table it took him several minutes to get through all of them.

In this time, the accompanying adults crowded the wand maker, hoping for an explanation or assurances that the wand being picked would be powerful. 'It is… an interesting combination,' the old wand maker said quietly, after several minutes of deep thought, 'One that I do not usually work for. You do understand, Albus, that at this point, he could go either way.'

Dumbledore looked disturbed at the thought, but after a second of indecision, he regained his confidence, 'It won't come to that, the boy has chosen' James looked confused, while Lily slightly fearful at the implications of what could happen. Olivander then turned away from them all and began to manually gather the wood blocks strewn over the floor of the shop. Only Harry saw the discrete nod that he knew was to him.

At that moment Michael sat back from the table with an angrily look on his face, 'none of them want me' He exclaimed dramatically, staring at the wand maker with an accusing look on his face, 'Dumbledore replied before he could, 'Why my boy, you haven't yet tried all of the woods, perhaps one of them is to be your companion'

Michael huffed, 'But they're _boring_!'

'Mr Potter, you must apologise, or I will not complete your wand for you, it may even happen that you have offended your potential wand wood,' The Potters gave him odd looks, as if he were crazy. Michael took this as approval for his actions.

'It's just wood, it won't do anything, now get me a wand!' To prove his point, Michael began grabbing the remaining plain blocks of wood and throwing them at the shocked man, however he had barely thrown his second piece when a sudden crack was heard, and Michael screamed and cradled his arm.

James and Lily immediately dashed to the aid of their son, and began screaming protectively at Olivander, who ignored them and peacefully gathered the scattered woods, until James' wand point found itself at his neck.

Albus immediately spoke.

'Now now James, I'm sure this is some misunderstanding,' The wand point didn't move.

'Wood can't do magic, this man just cursed my son'

'Lord potter, some of these woods were taken from trees centuries old, it is rare but not unheard of for these trees to develop a sort of mind, if they grow near places with high concentrations of magic. Of course we don't know much about it, but they do occasionally have reactions like what you just saw.'

James did not look at all satisfied at his explanation, but grudgingly stepped away once Dumbledore pointedly ordered him to do so. They went through the rest of the woods in silence. There were two more flashes.

'It is curious that not one but two woods have chosen you Mr Potter, curious indeed. Spruce.' He indicated a block of wood that hadn't moved from its position on the table 'Most would call it difficult, but it is simply single minded, and powerful enough to back itself up. And Blackthorn, the wand of a warrior.' Michael looked exceptionally proud of his wand woods, and ran his fingers carefully over the soft grain. 'Now I believe, that with these materials, your wand will be ready if you pop by in three hours.'

At that he abruptly turned away and entered the dark recesses of his own store.

'Well Mikey, I definitely think you deserve an ice cream for that'

'And you were so brave when Mummy cast the healing charm on you!'

As the family slowly made their way out of the store, showering praises on their little hero, Harry stayed. He was curious at the long stares the wand maker had given him, and he was certain he had given him a look.

Just as the door was about to close, Lily turned back to see where he was, but Dumbledore grasped her arm gently and prevented her from crashing into a wide eyed muggleborn shopper who had decided to come early for the school year. The door closed with a tinkle.

'Hello Harry,' A startled yelp escaped his mouth as he turned as saw Olivanders face inches from his own.

'My apologies Harry, I simply find you interesting.'

He turned away and started examining several wands, after several moments of thoughtful silence Olivander began to speak.

'The wand chooses the wizard Harry, that much has always been known to us wand makers, it is not always clear why. Some say that it just happens. Some say it is due to small creatures that live inside them. Some say that the wand itself is sentient. In my years of work, I would have to say that is not the case, though all are partially correct. Magic is the true reason. The wand is merely a container for the force that drives the universe itself. Without it your consciousness would not exist, this store would not exist, life would not exist. _Magic,_ is the driving force behind everything. And magic is sentient. That has been proved in so many ways I would still be here once this moon had passed if I were to name them all, why earlier today, when your brother was here the magic in the wood took offence, because it is sentient. And in every single thing there is magic. Some things hold it better than others, as some things do. Certain metals, gemstones, magic itself, but most of all, live things. In a wand, these containers are combined in the strongest possible way until they create their own tiny piece of magic. If the wand is crafted well, and the two materials are compatible enough, the wand will become the container for an amount of sentient magic. This is what truly makes a wand.'

Harry was lost with all the information provided to him. After stuttering for several moments, he settled on, 'Sorry sir, but I'm told you are not usually this direct.' The unasked question was clearly heard _'Why are you telling me this?'_

'In my years as a wand maker, I have also learnt to… know when magic is present, for lack of a word. And when you entered my store, there was so much magic. Additionally, I have mastered what many call Mage Sight, which allows you to see the raw magic in the item. You _are_ magic Harry. Most wizards have a single core, in which all their magic is gathered. Your entire body lights up, and I can see the magic at your fingertips. It is my belief that any non-bonded wand will work for you, Harry.'

Olivander carefully placed two wands in Harry's limp hands. Both sent a ripple of warm air through the shop and began pouring sparks like there was no tomorrow.

He dropped them.

'But it is my belief that you do not need a wand.'

The wands on the floor carried on pouring sparks.

'That you have been blessed by magic enough to not need the petty restraints of a normal witch or wizard. You will do magic, without a wand, or an incantation, or even movement. You will simply speak to the magic and it will obey you. Tell me, Harry, Have you ever done accidental magic?' Rather than being disappointed at the negative response Olivander looked ecstatic.

'Have you ever done Magic?' Harry could hear the capitol letter, and he found himself nodding, despite his strong instinct not to tell anyone.

He quickly shook himself from those wide blue eyes; they were making him say far too much. Olivander seemed satisfied with his actions, raising his head as if having a conversation with something, before nodding again and walking back into the recesses of his store.

Harry blinked.

After he had begun to consider leaving, Olivander returned carrying a heavy, leather bound tome with golden writing 'Magickes Moste True', embossed on the front, giving him an odd sense of deja vu. He set it down with obvious relief.

'This Harry is what I believe to be a grimoire of an old family, I am unsure which, only that it has taken decades to write and has managed to uncover magic in its truest form, I understand that the grammar might be a little beyond you, but it would make me feel better if you had it. It pains me to give it away, but I believe I have gleaned any knowledge it might give me.'

He carefully flicked through the pages settling on a title page marked 'Wand Making' and traced it with his fingertips, 'Indeed it has taught me what no other could, or would, however I believe it could and will teach you infinities more, so I give this to you, Harry Potter, in the hope that you will use it better than I.' At that he abruptly slammed it closed and handed it to the exited, yet wary boy.

Harry staggered slightly as its weight was thrust fully upon him, 'Are you sure you want to do _this_ sir, what about Michael?'

'No, Harry. You. You have a talent unlike any other, and though Michael may be the prophesised one, you will do so much more. I regret to announce, that many years ago I did send a basic copy of this book to Michael, but I do suspect that it either remained unopened, or has since found its way into the archives of Albus Dumbledore, in any case, he was not ready at the time, and I doubt he ever will be, but here you are ready and eager, so why would I not.'

'I did think it was rather lacking, sir,' He giggled as he saw the old man freeze in shock, before he joined in his laughter. When it had subsided the tension between them had subsided significantly, however before he could do anything. Olivander started once more.

'Harry I believe you should go now, your parents will be getting worried,' Harry was annoyed, he had finally been making a friend, but could see the thinly veiled desperacy in the man.

'Just one final question?' at the hurried nod of consent he continued, 'Why are you so mysterious?'

The naïve question barely produced a tense smile as Olivander picked the two wands up from the floor and expertly settled them into their cases.

'It's what the public expects of me Harry, and it just so happens that it is useful to me to conform to their assumptions. So I dol, until the day comes when I no longer need to for my own protection. Show them what they want to see, Harry, but be so much more. Follow the rules only when they suite you.' By the end of his speech he had developed a frantic air, and Harry could barely keep up with what he was saying, not helped by the fact that he was retreating into his store for the umpteenth time that meeting.

As the door rang open to reveal the Potter horde and Dumbledore returned early, he could have sworn the man's last echoing words were.

'You have my blessing, Harry.'

He turned and prepared to accept the empty platitudes of his family once more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Need... Sleep... Help...<strong>

**I am really sorry this took so long, and I can blame nothing but my self. Exams and holidays came and went, and the others came to take their place, but now _everything_ is over and this is the only thing I have to do, it actually took 5 days(!) To write as it is double my usual chapter length, and I had to get back in the swing of the story, but I edited it in about half an hour, so its no Tolkien. Also I'm really sorry if its easy to sense where I left off as my writing style is constantly changing, though I believe its for the better, now there aren't 8 commas per sentence! **

**Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review ect ect, now, Sleep!**


End file.
